


DevotionaL

by emil (popps)



Category: Nier Gestalt | Nier Replicant | Nier (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, During Canon, Emotional Baggage, Feels, Gen, Humanity, Love, Mild Hurt/Comfort, NieR Zine, POV Alternating, POV First Person, Protective Siblings, Robot Feels, Sisters, Twins, Zine: Ten Years of Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:13:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28584054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popps/pseuds/emil
Summary: "I understand now why we're twins."Introspective moments through the eyes of Devola and Popola, set during the events of NieR Gestalt / NieR Replicant.For the non-human, what does it mean to be alive? To love, to fear, to keep secrets from the one closest to you.Originally published in "Ten Years of Tears: A NieR Zine" 23 OCT 2020.
Relationships: Devola & Popola (Nier), Devola/Popola (Nier)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	DevotionaL

* * *

_  
at the core of Me,  
_ _is Us._

Sticks crackle and pop as we huddle together in the flickering light. You’ve drifted into slumber with your cheek on my shoulder, I can feel the soft motions of your breathing like the gentle sway of a boat on the water. In these moments, we are completed. In shared laughter, in shared work, in shared rest, we are completed.

Family isn’t something I think we were created to understand. They called us twins, sisters, but I find my thoughts drifting towards the plan. Together, we shared the burden of our work, a monumental task for which dozens of “Us” were created. Salt and Pepper shakers, mass produced, a set for each table. Yet we take care of one another, love one another.

Is what we have, _“love” … ?  
_… of course it must be.

My eyelids grow heavy as I assure myself of this, letting the warmth of your closeness seep into my artificial skin, reaching for whatever Me is buried there. Our fingers interlaced, like our existence, like our mission. At the end of each day, I’ll be sure to remember.

Of course I love you, dear sister. Otherwise I wouldn’t b _e_ _ab l e_ _̧͉̥̙͇͍̼ ͈̗̠_ _t_ _̨̨͖̫̥̳͍̜ o̬͚̪̟ ̡̖̮͕̘͙ ̨̨͖̫̥̳͍̜̟̼ ͈̜̞̼͓ ̳͔̱̖͈͓͜͢ͅ ̢̨͕̖͍̫͈̤͖̱ ̼̭̳͓̲̤̣̗͜͜ ̬̺̥̩͈̺̥͜ ̨̟̻͙̪͕̼ ̧͔̼̝͖̻͟͜ ̬̻̥̭͉ ̨͙̭̱͔͍̮̝͜ͅ ̤̻͔̳̘͎̲͜ ̮̞͚̦̲ ͍͍̗͕͔̰̣̫͜ ̥̝̰̘̭̼͖ ̡͍̝̲̮̱̪͓̤͜ ̧͉̥̙͇͍̼ ͈̗̠̤̰̹̯͜ͅ ̼̪̠̯̞͉͎ ̼̳̣̥̻̗͟ ̧͔͇̥̟͜ ̞̰͎̹͖͙̜͟ ̱̲̙̖̟͎͓̫͔ ̡̧̪̘̦̫̝ ͚͎̻̰̮̙͢ ̦̬̻̞̬̹͢͟ ̡̧̥͙̯̤͙̩͈ ̧̠̜̤̹̩̰̭͜ͅ ̥͖͈̭̣ͅ_

* * *

_if I fall off this tightrope,  
_ _don’t follow me_

Gritting my teeth, I slam the door much too hard. A pulse of mock-adrenaline buzzes through my circuits and the sensation is gratifying, for a moment, at least. The mood is tempered by my sudden awareness of you. Your subtle flinch that you tried not to show, leaving a chill of remorse to creep up the back of my neck. As designed, you reign me back into line without so much as a word.

I let out a loud exhale, my gaze traveling over your crumpled shoulders, arms tightly pressed to your chest. Icy static pulses down my arms, thousands of pin pricks in my fingers forcing me to release my clenched fists. I reach out for you with an open hand, yearning to complete our matched set.

“I’m sorry, Sis. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay, I know.”

The cold feeling subsides as you come back into bloom, petals unfurling as you take my outstretched hand and we begin deliberations. It’s dire, and I want to insist this to you without losing my temper, without succumbing to the weight of the burden we are meant to hold together. If I lose strength, how could I ever burden you, beloved sister? If one of us were to succumb to our fear, would we both fall?

We watch the Project crumble, our inflated sense of competence slipping between our fingers as the Black Scrawl ravages mercilessly. I feel like we both know the truth, but I can never make you tell me so. _It will be okay, it will be okay._ You insist this while you tremble in my arms at night, as we uselessly put on brave faces for one another. Hiding from the only person who could understand, under some foolish notion that will make the other speak up.

Is it selfish to feel this fear for Me,  
that I justify by saying _I fear for You… ?_

That’s the cruel joke of it all, how much we feel, and how guilty we feel for doing so. I want to scream, but one look at you instantly stifles it in my throat. Half-formed thoughts of fleeing, taking your hand and leaving this place before it’s too late, they reach conspicuously severed pathways in my mind and simply cease to be. Carefully worded lines of code bind us here, and redirect all our steps into line. Surely we both know this, both feel ourselves snapped back onto the rails like industrial magnets over and over.

Or maybe, that’s just… Me…?

My hand finds yours.  
It never takes long to find.

 **_R e_ ** **_s̋ ĕ́̏_ ** **_ţ̩͈̼_ ** **_._  
  
******

* * *


End file.
